The madness of becomin' what one was never meant to be

Recently took one of those online surveys to identify your dream job or top career.  I tried to be truthful and answered all the questions without hesitation, repetition or mixed-up confusion. After all, you only end up kidding yourself when you realise that you could've been a contender.

The survey asked about my likes, weaknesses, strength, favourites, height, collections, attitude to people in authority and my relationship with my mother - standard psychometric stuff really.  The sliding scale meant sitting on the fence was factored out - the definitive definite article.  When I’d finished I excitedly scrolled down for the results.

Now to be honest I wasn’t surprised to see Personal Adviser, Editorial Assistant or Public Relations Officer showing up, but what really drew my eye were the areas with a ‘shows talent’ icon.  Again, Author, Writer, Novelist – yes, in my dreams.  But Priest, MP and Ballerina were a genuine surprise.

Then I started wondering about combining the suggestions to create or capture a niche occupation: Model Novelist; Entrepreneurial Religious Leader; Dancing Politician – Ann Widdecombe flashed into my mind and I screamed.

Some career paths are best left un-trodden.

Love Sick

Our pet rabbit is love sick - so the vet tells us.  He's been off his food, lethargic and generally disinterested for a week or so.  Not like him at all.  Normally he's hungry to the point of starving and in the morning pushes the hand that feeds him out of the way to get to his food bowl.

After a physical examination at the vets, the opinion was that he's in good shape and there is nothing physically wrong - it's all in his mind.  Well that's a relief I guess, but I wonder how much more an animal psychiatrist would cost over the £35 for the vet's medical opinion.

So back in the garden I'm sitting there wondering how to help.  I consider getting him some magazines to look at in the privacy of his own hutch - Play Bunny, that sort of thing.  What about an inflatable toy?  We have a few small footballs kicking around which might do the trick. The obvious answer would be a mate for him to mate with.  Perhaps we could put him out to stud - a rent bunny.  He is a good looking little chap after all.

We love our rabbit, he’s almost one of the family. Since the day we brought him home in a box (the same way he'll be leaving) he's always been a happy bunny and hopped around his run quite gaily.  Hhhmm, maybe that's it?